Tuesday – Anything Possible

June 2, 2015June 1, 2015 ~ John W. Howell ~ 19 Comments

As those of you who often visit know, I sometimes come across things on the beach that strike a prompt chord in my writing head. This yellow bottle was no exception. I have never seen any trash wash up on the beach with anything but English or Spanish labels and directions. When I came across this Asian labelled bottle, I had to come up with a story to explain how it got to Texas. So here goes.

“Yes, your appointment is confirmed for Friday.”

“Thank you. It’s important that I am not delayed. I have a critical engagement right after.”

“Yes, ma’am. We will see you at nine o-clock, and you will be ready to go by noon.”

“Oh, that’s great. One more thing. Can I bring my shampoo?”

“Well we have a number of brands and they are complementary.”

“This is a special shampoo I got while I was in Japan. They say it’s magic the way it works.”

“You can bring your own. You say you got it in Japan?”

“Yes and right after my appointment I am catching a flight back to Japan so I will take it with me as well.”

“Don’t you worry. We will take care of you.”

“Great. See you tomorrow.”

Tuesday – Anything Possible – Short Story

April 21, 2015April 20, 2015 ~ John W. Howell ~ 17 Comments

I found this helmet while walking on the beach last week. Like most things, it prompted a story.

“Hey you there.”

“What do you want?”

“You know hanging off that structure is dangerous?”

“Yeah, but you ought to see the view from up here.’

“Look you there I’m ordering you to come down.”

“So who are you?”

“I’m the platform foreman that’s who. You come down before you fall into the Gulf.”

“I’ve been working drilling rigs for twenty years and never fell once.”

“There’s always the first time.”

“I’m not kidding you I think I can see land from up here.”

“Impossible land is over sixty miles away.”

“Well, one thing is sure.”

“What’s that?”

“If I did fall I could never swim that far.”

“You would never live through the fall. That’s two hundred feet to the water.”

“Yeah, I know. Whoa, it sure is windy up here. There goes my hat.”

“That’ll cost you twenty bucks now get down here.”

“Man that is a long way down. Okay, my hat convinced me. I’m coming down.”

“Watch that first step.”

Wednesday – Mid Week Story Day

April 2, 2014March 28, 2014 ~ John W. Howell ~ 21 Comments

Wednesday is upon us again and time for a story. Please tell me if this Wednesday thing is too routinized cause if it is, I sure don’t want to keep busting my hump (heh heh worked it in) on the day to create something you don’t like. After all this blog is not for me . . . hold on. Wait this blog is for me. What am I saying? I have been reading too much about how to write an interesting blog. I’m starting to get sensitive to what I think y’all would like to see. STUFF THAT. I need to tell a story about a sensitive man in an insensitive world and that’s what I’m going to do. The title is “Hey You” I really do hope you like it.

“Hey you. Where you going?”

“I was just going to get a bite to eat.”

“You can’t leave the room. Your number hasn’t been called.”

“Yeah, but I’m really hungry. I haven’t had a thing to eat all day.”

“Well that is your problem you were told to bring a lunch.”

“Yes I know, but you see my wife is in the hospital and I went to see her this morning and didn’t have time to grab a lunch.”

“Still not my problem chief. Now go sit down before I need to call someone.”

“She’s very sick and I have a couple of kids that need to be cared for as well.”

“Sure we all have kids. I will ask you to sit one more time before I call security.”

“Okay I am sitting. No need to get anyone else in here.”

“So where is your wife?”

“She is in Mercy hospital. She came down with the flu and then it got worse.”

“That’s not good. Where are the kids?”

“We have a sitter who comes in.”

“Well that’s good. At least they are not alone. What is your number anyway?”

“Uh, let me get it. Here it is, number sixty-five.”

“Oh man. They are only on twenty-one. You have quite a wait. Tell you what. You go grab some lunch and promise me you’ll be back in a half hour.”

“Oh sir that is so nice of you.”

“Yeah well, don’t mention it and don’t tell anybody.”

“Okay I will just slip out.”

“Go ahead.”

“Hey where is that guy going?

“He needs to go see a sick wife. What’s it to you?”

“Well I know he is number sixty-five and I am sixty-six. If he doesn’t come back then my number will be up when possibly I wouldn’t have been served today.”

“Yeah so?”

“I know this euthanasia for science research thing is voluntary and the money is good, but I don’t think I am ready to go through with it.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you signed the contract. Now go sit down.”

Kori Miller Writes – Published The Boss by John W. Howell

February 28, 2014February 28, 2014 ~ John W. Howell ~ 6 Comments

The boss is a piece of flash fiction which Kori Miller on her Kori Miller Writes site has posted. You can go here to read it. I certainly want to thank Kori for putting it up on her space. There is also an imposing picture of me there, but you can avert your eyes.

Kori’s site has a number of authors featured as well as information on pod casting. Definitely worth a visit.

Hump Day is as Hump Day Does

January 22, 2014January 21, 2014 ~ John W. Howell ~ 23 Comments

Here is a quick story for hump day. Warning. . . this one is a little weird and came rolling out of my head with little control. It is called My FLY.

“OMG, if I don’t find a place to lay these eggs soon I am going to burst.”

“Now dear you can put those eggs anywhere. You know that.”

“The doctor told me I needed to find some healthy waste so the babies would have a good start.”

“Start schmart. You know those little maggots don’t appreciate anything.”

“Yes, but it is a mother’s duty to give them the best chance.”

“Yeah and what does it get you. When’s the last time we heard from any of those adults? How many are there now a couple a billion?”

“Well dear I’m sure they are just busy. You know with flying around and looking for places to lay eggs. It is nowhere near a billion. I think millions would be more accurate. Of course, who knows how many have been taken by the giant swatter?”

“I heard old man Nichols got swatted last week.”

“Oh my. I hadn’t heard. How’s Mrs. Nichols?”

“Took it real hard. She hasn’t left her dung heap since.”

“I’ll have to stop by and give her my condolences.”

“Now there is an idea. You could kill two birds with one stone. Say hello and you’re sorry to Nichols, then drop off that pile of eggs.”

“You know it just might work. Get my suitcase it is time we went to give birth. Thanks for the idea.”

“No problem. We should probably fly low. I hear there is a swatter up high.”

“You know best dear.”

Shopping Is as Shopping Does

December 11, 2013December 10, 2013 ~ John W. Howell ~ 20 Comments

Animated sequence of a race horse galloping. P... — Animated sequence of a race horse galloping. Photos taken by Eadweard Muybridge (died 1904), first published in 1887 at Philadelphia (Animal Locomotion). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Wednesday seems like a good day to tell a little story. I was thinking on what to post today and I tumbled a few ideas around in my head.(Nice thing there isn’t much in there to get in the way) I thought I would come up with a holiday story, but right now it is a little too far away for the story to have the same meaning. I also considered doing one of those surprise ending – mystery – type things, but felt the holidays were a little too close for something macabre. So, I settled on what you see here. It is a story of a guy caught trying to enter a department store with a horse while doing some holiday shopping. It’s titled Me and my Pal and I hope you like it.

“Excuse me sir, but you can’t bring that animal into the store.”

“This so called animal happens to be a thorough bred horse.”

“Yeah I can see that, but you still can’t have it in the store.”

“Why not? He’s housebroken and cleaner than a lot of the folks I see in here. He wiped his feet before coming through the door.”

“He just may be cleaner, but he is still an animal and animals are not allowed.”

“What about service animals? Would you deny the entrance of a seeing eye dog for example?”

“No sir. We would not. Clearly your horse is not a service animal.”

“Oh but he is.”

“Sure sir. Your horse is a service animal. What service if I may be so presumptuous as to ask?”

“He is a gift horse.”

“A what?”

“A gift horse.”

“Okay I give, what is a gift horse?”

“A horse with the smarts to tell you when you have the right gift.”

“Sir I am going to have to ask you to step outside before I call security.”

“No I mean it. Watch I’ll show you. See this gift set of cologne, powder, and moisturizer?”

“Yeah I see it so what?”

“Well here. I’ll just pick it up and show it to the gift horse and ask if it is the right gift. The horse will nod his head yes if it is right and stomp his foot if wrong.”

“How does he know who the gift is for?”

“Oh that’s easy. I just tell him.”

“You tell him?”

“Yeah watch. I’ll hold this set under his nose and call him by My Pal. That’s his name.”

“Uh okay.”

“My Pal, does this look like a good gift for Judy?”

“He is stomping his foot.”

“See it means it is not the right gift.”

“Okay I have had enough. I need you and My Pal here to go outside.”

“Wait I have one more. My Pal, see this hundred-dollar bill? Would it make the right gift for this nice department store employee so you and I can continue shopping?”

“He is nodding yes. . . Did I hear you say he was housebroken?”

Friday Catcher is as Friday Catcher Does

November 29, 2013November 22, 2013 ~ John W. Howell ~ 14 Comments

Friday at last. Last week I published a story about the Friday Catcher. You can read it here: wp.me/p2Qoij-RX

A few comments lead me to come back to the story since none of us could figure out where time goes. Last Friday’s story had a character’s wife calling on Wednesday to find out where her husband was since he had disappeared. The supplier of the Friday Catcher (allows the user to wake up the next day and it is Friday) has no idea where the husband went. He quoted the old “where does the time go?” to try to explain. He told the wife he will be back Friday. The wife left the line.

Today’s story is from the POV of the user of the Friday Catcher. The idea is to explain where he went from the time he went to sleep Tuesday night to Friday.

“Excuse me sir.”

“Yes son.”

“Can you tell me where we are? It looks like my town, but there is no one here.”

“Yeah it’s probably your town all right.”

“Where is everyone?”

“You used the Friday Catcher right?”

“Y-Yes I did. It sure didn’t work though. I was supposed to get up and it would be Friday morning.”

“Yeah that sounds like the way it was supposed to work.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“My name is Richard, What’s yours?”

“Robert, Go by Bobby though.”

“You from the south?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“Everyone adds a y to their name there.”

“Never thought about it before, but seems right to me. Where you from?”

“California.”

“California? What you doing in Texas?”

“I have been asking myself since nineteen ninety-four. I was in New York when someone hung that Friday Catcher above my bed.”

“Ninety four? Who hung the Friday Catcher?”

“One of the nurses.”

“Wait a minute. You were sick.”

“Boy you can say that again. Your president was a sick as hell. I must add I am not a crook.”

“My president? I could not place your face until now. Are you telling me you are Richard Nixon?”

“I prefer Richard Milhous Nixon.”

“Oh man. I am in real trouble.”

“Been there. Got the shirt.”

Have a great weekend y’all

CSB Prompt is as CSB Prompt Does

November 12, 2013 ~ John W. Howell ~ 11 Comments

English: Illustration of the pain pathway in R... — English: Illustration of the pain pathway in René Descartes’ Traite de l’homme (Treatise of Man) 1664. The long fiber running from the foot to the cavity in the head is pulled by the heat and releases a fluid that makes the muscles contract. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This is in response to the Community Story Board Prompt for this week: Tomorrow by Julian Froment. You can see Julian’s here; http://goo.gl/ujGp3c

“Okay what did you say?”

“I said I can’t believe you forgot about picking me up.”

“Aw honey I didn’t forget.”

“I don’t know what you call it then. I waited at the airport for an hour and no you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just─”

“Just what you dead beat?”

“Well it’s just I made a mistake that’s all. I thought your flight was tomorrow. ”

“Mistake. I would say leaving your wife at the airport so she has to call a cab cause your sorry ass can’t answer the phone is more than a mistake. I told you when I left when the flight was. Here’s the damn schedule right on the table where I left it.”

“I wasn’t home to answer the phone.”

“Tell me something else I don’t know. Who were you with? That slut of a sister-in-law of yours?”

“Naw I was not with Teresa. I was at the doctors.”

“The doctors? What the hell you doing at the doctors.”

“This pain in my chest is worse.”

“Pain what pain?”

“I told you I had a pain.”

“You mean that pain you mentioned a month ago?”

“Yeah that’s it.”

“You said it was cause you got hit on the job. What did the doctor say?”

“Tumor.”

“What? What ya mean tumor?”

“Yeah he said they need to operate tomorrow. If not I would have to wait a month and he thought that might be too late. I told him I couldn’t tomorrow cause you needed to be picked up from the airport.”

“No wait. Call the doctor and tell him you can do it tomorrow.”

“Too late. His office called and told me before you came in that they had another in my place.”

Talk is as Talk Does

September 20, 2013 ~ John W. Howell ~ 4 Comments

wepoetsshowit just published one of my stories on their Debut Writer feature. It is a lovely blog that is certainly worth a visit. All week they have special features on poetry, the arts and an open mic segment. Their blog has a calendar which you can click on and view the up and coming daily events. Since this blog is designed to feature the work of the artistic community you may want to look at the submission policy. Thank you wepoetsshowit for the opportunity. So here is the story:

Talk by John W. Howell

“So the guy says to me ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ I just look at him and smile.”

“Then what happens?”

“I take him by the arm and walk him over to the trash can. I make him look into the can and then I say, ‘does that look like yours?’”

“I’ll bet he is shitting his pants by then.”

“Oh yeah. I can feel him shaking just by holding his arm.”

“So what then?”

“He tells me he has never seen the bag before and I call him a liar. I place the barrel of the cold gun against his temple and whisper that he better tell me the truth. I squeeze his arm for effect just to make sure he knows I mean it”

“Did he spill his guts then?”

“Naw he keeps insisting he has never seen the bag before. I tell him to pull the bag out of the can which he does.”

“Do you make him open it?”

“Yeah, I tell him to undo the latch.”

“He has the key right?”

“He still says he has no idea how to open the bag so I hit him with the butt of the pistol.”

“Woo. I’ll bet that hurt.”

“He starts bleeding like a stuck pig. I had to give him my handkerchief to stop it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“The main reason is I didn’t want any of his blood on me. You never know these days what some of these assholes are carrying. He could have aids for god’s sake.”

“Yeah I guess that was the smart thing to do. What happened then?”

“I told him to get on his knees and pray since this might be the last few minutes that he would be alive.”

“No shit you told him that?”

“Yeah and then I put the gun barrel on the back of his head and asked him one more time to open the bag.”

“Did he open it?”

“Naw he just started crying and begging me to let him go.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Let him go?”

“Hell no. I pulled the trigger and he hit the ground like I had hit him with a two by four.”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe it. Why?”

“I told him I was going to kill him if he didn’t open the bag. I am a man of my word.”

“Unbelievable. My god you killed a man. Where is the bag now?”

“Right here. Take a look.”

“What is that mess on it?”

“I would say some blood and a little brain.”

“Ew. That is too disgusting.”

“So why don’t you open it.”

“What do you mean? Open it.”

“Just as I said. Open it. You were the one who mentioned the key. Only the owner of the bag would know there is a key needed.”

“I..I don’t know what you mean.”

“Open the bag or I will kill you.”

“Come on. Quit screwing around. You know I don’t have a key.”

“I don’t know any such thing. You were the one who pointed out the guy and said he had dumped the bag in the trash can. You sent me there to get the bag thinking I would just pick it up. All along it was you who threw the bag in the can right?”

“Yes okay I was the one who threw the bag in the can.”

“Why?”

“The bag is filled with diamonds that I took from work.”

“You took diamonds from work. Why?”

“I was going to recover them and pick up a reward.”

“You were the one who took the diamonds and you wanted me to get caught with them? That guy was a cop and you knew that. He was supposed to arrest me when I picked up the bag. You didn’t think I was going to go after the guy did you? ”

“N-no I didn’t.”

“Now it is too late. The cop is dead and all we have left is a bag of diamonds.”

“Ten million dollars’ worth of diamonds.”

“What?”

“I am the only one who can get rid of them. They will be hotter than hell tomorrow.”

“Why not just turn them in for the reward?”

“It’s too late. There is no one to blame for taking them but me.”

“That would be okay as far as I am concerned.”

“Yeah but I would have to do hard time.”

“That wouldn’t bother me.”

“What are you doing?”

“Looks like I am screwing a silencer on this very loud pistol to me.”

“Don’t kid around like this.”

“I never kid. By the way, you never opened the bag. Bye now.”

Clumsy Dialog is as Clumsy Dialog Does

May 24, 2013June 5, 2013 ~ John W. Howell ~ 30 Comments

I did a post last week on Fiction Favorites titled Dialog is as Dialog Does where I attempted to demonstrate some of the principles necessary for good dialog. The piece is a bit of flash fiction that contained only dialog and really no context with the idea that the reader could figure out the story with just the dialog and no tags. You can read it here http://wp.me/p2Qoij-s5 if you would like to contrast it to what I am about to cover. This post will take the dialog from the last which had no tags and add tags that are totally inappropriate. By inappropriate I don’t mean offensive or derisive but really unnecessary to either the story or the conversation.

The reason I am doing this is to hopefully point out some of the glaring mistakes that new writer’s make in wanting to over explain the situation in a dialog setting. The true test of good dialog is the ability of the writer to separate conversations so that the reader knows exactly who is talking. Also good dialog should move the story along without causing the reader to be forced to stop and think about what the writer has laid out. So here we go.

“Can I help you young man?” the woman behind the desk asks.

“Yes I am here to see the president,” I reply with a bit of urgency.

“Is he expecting you?” she says with an eyebrow raised.

“He should be. I sent him a letter and said I was going to stop by,” I respond back with a note of irritation in my voice.

“A letter?” she says with surprise in her voice.

“Yes,” I counter with a sense of superiority

“When did you send a letter?” she questions with some doubtfulness.

“I guess it was about a month ago. The letter asked that my correct name be used since there has been a computer error and the University keeps calling me Howard instead of Howell,” I say almost running out of breath.

“Did Dr. Hannah respond to the letter?” she asks with an interrogator’s tone.

“Yes he did. I got a nice letter back. Here is a copy read it for yourself,” I say handing her the letter.

“Humm. Dr Hannah specifically thanked you for your correspondence and indicated that he would look into your problem. You say that your name is Howell and not Howard?” she says while looking over her glasses.

“Yes it has been Howell for the last nineteen years,” I reply with a certain air of smugness.

“Yet the letter from Dr. Hannah is addressed to John Howard,” she points out handing the letter back to me.

“This is why I need to see him,” I say forcibly.

“Wait here Mr. Howard. Let me see if I can find someone to help,” she says and then turns to go.

“It’s Howell,” I call out to her back.

“Excuse me?” she questions as she stops and slowly turns around to look at me.

“My name is Howell not Howard,” I repeat directly to her.

“Oh yes that is what I said. Howard,” she says and continues to move away.

“Howell,” I say even louder as she gets further from the room.

“I said Howard not Howell,” she calls back to me.

“I know,” I say and sigh loudly.

“Very well Mr. Howard, I will be right back,” she says and begins to move again.

“Howell,” I raise my voice

“I am only trying to help,” she says with an expression of irritation on her face.

“I’m sure,” I sort of blurt out sarcastically.

“I think you should call for an appointment. Good day Mr. Howard,” she says and disappears through the door way behind the desk.

If you found this dialog off setting and somewhat clumsy you are probably on the right track to great dialog in your writing. In my mind (although not an expert) this entire scene did not benefit from any of the stage directions that were added into the tags. I also believe the story itself lost some of the power of authoritarianism and tension that was present in the original.

Have a great weekend